From Col. Edward Mustard’s Correspondence File
24: Faroush al Faroukh
February 1769
My Dear Rao
Forgive this hastily scribbled Missive. However, I have News to impart that I am sure you would wish to hear Post Haste. I am currently in my Sitting Room, as my Tailor fits our Mutual Friend, Mr Faroush al Farukh, with some new Clothes so that I may present him to His Grace, the Duke of Brunswick on the morrow, in Garb more appropriate to the Occasion than the Rags in which he was clad when we arrived in London this Morning.
Let me begin My Tale at the Beginning. After we dealt with Gower a few Nights ago, I repaired to the Tower to write my Dispatches. The following Morning, being more or less in the Neighbourhood, I decided to visit the Arsenal at Woolwich. This was partly to thank my old friend Cholmondely-Parker for his Assistance earlier in the Week and pick up my Horse that I left in his Keeping. However, I also had the Intention to find and quiz Maxwell, who Tonkins had spotted as we passed through a few days earlier.
I found Maxwell in unusually confiding Mood. It seems that Maxwell is what the Sons of Judah call a Golem. He was once an Apothecary called Mendoza with a Shop in East London. From Clay and ancient Judaic Sigils, Mendoza had constructed a Golem in his Basement. It was intended as a Contingency against Unforeseen Exigencies, but Mendoza hesitated to finish it by infusing it with Life. Sadly, Unforeseen Exigencies arose far sooner and in a more personal Fashion than he had anticipated. During the Gin Riots of the 1730s his Premises were set alight by the Mob. He was forced by the Flames to retreat to his Basement and there, in order to save Himself from Immolation, he imbued the Golem with his very own Essence. He has wandered the Earth since, cultivating his Learning and Knowledge and doing whatever has seemed to him to be Good.
It seems that Mendoza was familiar with ben Ezra back in the 1730s. Indeed, it came to me that the old Jew had once spoken of a Mentor called Mendoza who mysteriously disappeared, his Dwelling burnt to the Ground. Ben Ezra was inclined to blame his Disappearance on the Antaeus League but apparently he was mistaken on this Matter. Maxwell is currently engaged on a Secret Project sponsored by Lord Foppingham.
Feeling some Pity for the Fate of Faroush al Faroukh, Maxwell agreed to accompany me to the Lands of Dust to rescue him from Servitude. Pausing only to requisition a Pukel Gun from the Arsenal, I rode back to Flyte in the Hole in Maxwell’s Company, and thence to the Lands of Dust.
Once there I summoned a small Demon whose Name I had harvested from my Interrogation of Belvedere. I was easily able to compel its Obedience and set it to find Faroush al Faroukh. Using my Pointer Device, I followed it to a Turkish Encampment of Tents considerably apart from the main Turkish Fortress. It seemed to contain about a Regiment of Foot and was surrounded by a Picket of Curtains, each embroidered with Protective Symbols, doubtless to keep the Denizens of that Place at bay.
While Maxwell caused a Disturbance on the Other Side of the Encampment, using the Gem to disguise myself as a Turk, I crept into the Encampment through a useful Gap in the “Curtain Wall”. Making a Small Incision in a large Tent where I had determined Faroush to be held, I spied within.
There I beheld a veritable Throng. There were perhaps a Score of Janissaries within, along with a similar Number of prostrate Slaves – among them Faroush al Faroukh. Fortunately, all Eyes were upon Chor Baji Tarshak Mehmet Rey, the Colonel (or Soup Carrier) I had previously encountered in these Lands. He was being accoutred for War while Soldiers and Slaves alike buzzed around Him like solicitous Insects. While a hapless Soldier was disciplined for some minor Faux Pas, I took my Opportunity. Enlarging the slit, I slipped inside the Tent where I stood to attention, hoping to pass for another Guard. Once Armoured, the Chor Baji marched from the Tent with most of the Soldiers in Train.
Left with but five Guards to deal with, I made my move. I commenced with what I considered a cunning Strategem to even the odds, setting my enthralled Demon to possess one of the Guards. This failed miserably as the Chosen Victim threw off the Attack and sounded the Alarm. When his alerted Fellows began to see through my Disguise and joined the Hue and Cry, I reverted to my normal Modus Operandi. Thinking the Puckle Gun to be too loud for the Occasion, I drew my Blade and leapt forward to sever the Bonds that secured Faroush, thrusting him towards the Rent I had made in the back of the Tent and bidding him flee. I then fought a Rearguard against the Five. Fortunately, they came at me in Dribs and Drabs. I slew four in short-order and leaving the fifth mortally wounded, I left in pursuit of Faroush. He was making slow Progress and I realised he was still shackled at the Ankles. So I tossed him over my Shoulder and departed in Haste, pursued by no more than a Crackle of ineffective Musketry.
We soon met up with Maxwell and made our exit back to Flyte in the Hole. Needless to say we were intercepted both on Arrival and Departure by the Guardian. As ever, She required to be Reminded of the “Eternal Gratitude” promised after our previous Service. However, She agreed to let us pass without Toll and to take Faroush with us – though She told him that he was a Lucky Man. It was Maxwell who observed that Mortals who linger long in the Lands of Dust may find it Hard to leave. A Lesson for us All.
My Intention is to be at Kew Palace on the Morrow with Faroush and to Seek an Audience with His Grace. If you, or Others of our Fellowship, wish to be Present, meet me at 8 of the Clock on Westminster Steps or catch up with me at Kew later in the Morning.
Mustard